


Den of Iniquity

by haikuhamster



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Angelic Grace, Accidental Voyeurism, Alpha Derek, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Crack, Crossover, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Top Castiel, author has taken his own liberties to create his own canon, dean is a total slut and i have no shame, he's doing his best, please let the authOR LIVE
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-10-10 19:26:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10445637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikuhamster/pseuds/haikuhamster
Summary: With a lot of puns, shameless toppy bastards, and endless nicknames, a hero has risen. (Stiles, for the last time, stop calling your dick a hero.) Fuck you, Dean.





	1. Pizza Delivery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not even sorry. Like, at all. Just pretend Derek never lost his alpha status okay okay shhhh~

"Oh my god..." Dean groans. "Oh fuck... It's so good."

Castiel's eyes are planted on the hunter's, watching them flutter a bit. "Dean."

"Fuck, I'm so full... It's so hot, god, I need more, Cas..." Dean moans again and his eyes roll back into his head.

" _Dean._ "

"Oh god I love it so much, you're so good at that, babe."

Sam pops his head up from where it was buried in his hands at the table. "Dean, it's a fucking burger!"

Dean bursts out laughing while both his brother and Cas scowl at him, Sam's far less amused than the angel's.

Castiel had decided to make dinner, and of course he decided upon cheeseburgers. They're a weakness for all three of them, and with Sam's puppy eyes they had bought avocado and bacon to make them California burgers. The man is most certainly regretting that choice now.

"It's a burger worthy of praise, Sammy. Cas cooked this whole meal up for us, shouldn't I let him know I'm enjoying it?"

"You and I both know that's not what you even sound like during sex," Cas argues.

"I do too, sadly," Sam groans.

"Zhat time wush totally yo fahwt," Dean lets out around another mouthful of burger.

"I told you I was gonna be home at 5!"

"Regardless," Cas says, effectively stalling their bickering. "Thank you for expressing your enjoyment for the food, Dean. Even if it would've been better placed if you were mocking pornography."

Dean smiles with his cheeks full of fries, making him look like a chipmunk. He swallows then says, "Any time, lover boy."

Cas returns Dean's smile with a small one of his own. Sam pipes up, "I hate to ruin the moment or anything, but I've been seeing a lot of supernatural activity in Northern California over the years. It's been either too far or we've been too busy to really deal with it, so I haven't mentioned it. It all seems to clear up soon anyway, but yesterday there was a power outage at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Apparently there's a boy who healed completely during that, even while his machines were off."

"That doesn't seem like a big deal," Dean says.

"That's the third power outage in the town this month and the boy had been bleeding so badly two hours prior the hospital staff didn't think he was going to make it. He'd been attacked by a bear."

"Yeah, a bear my ass," Dean snorts. "Cas and I will take it and look into it. Send me the address of the hospital, we'll cut tomorrow morning." Sam nods and he looks at Cas. "Sound good, babe?"

Cas nods as well, and the two of them got up to pack while Sam gets on the dishes.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Stiles has a pencil between his teeth and his feet on Derek's lap while he studies. He has midterms coming up and his Criminal Justice teacher has it out for him, probably because he's the sheriff's son. Scott says it's because he's better at figuring things out than the teacher is, but Scott is too optimistic for his own good anyway.

The knock at the door startles both him and Derek. None of the pack ever knocks, maybe it's Melissa or something? "Coming!" he shouts, putting his stuff on the table and holding up a finger to keep the wolf from following him to the door. He opens it and is preparing himself to greet Scott's mom, but is instead faced with two men.

"Uh, hello?" he says, looking between them. What the hell? The one to Stiles' left is slightly shorter than the other, with dark hair and bright blue eyes. His body screams power, but his tax accountant get-up throws off the vibe a bit. The other one has dirty blonde hair and green eyes, less stubble but still enough to make him look a little rough. This guy is wearing a suit without a trenchcoat, and he fills it out well. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, are your parents home?" says green-eyes.

Stiles is offended for a moment, he's not _that_ young! But he instead smirks and turns around to look at Derek. "They're asking for you, _Daddy._ " Derek shoots him a glare but gets up anyway, walking over and giving the men a quicker once-over than Stiles did.

"I'm not his father, but can I help you?" Stiles snorts and gets a small kick to the leg from Derek, causing him to smirk a little wider.

Green-eyes blushes hard but keeps the front well. "Yes, uh, can we speak to you for a few moments? It won't take long."

Derek steps aside and shoots Stiles a pointed look. Stiles knows that look, and hell no. He's not leaving. He sits back where he was on the couch, picking his books back up. Derek let's out an indignant huff while the men step in. Stiles is totally getting punished tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna post chapter two in an hour or so, I just don't even know where I'm going with this lmao. YAY MOTIVATION but not the kind that gets chapter five of temptations out okay fUCK SORRY send me hate comments i thrive


	2. Scowling Contest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I pretty much just checked for spelling mistakes and called it a day lmao. I have no clue if this flows at all, but oh well! Hope y'all like it.

Stiles watches the man with blue eyes survey the room, seemingly taking in every aspect easily with a single glance. It's a little creepy. Green eyes, on the other hand, keeps his eyes trained on Derek, even while he's taking a seat next to Stiles at the wolf's gesture.

"Names," Derek demands. What the hell? He sounds crazy pretentious like that, what did these guys do to him?

"Dean Plant," green-eyes indicates himself. "Castiel Paige." He indicates blue-eyes.

Derek glares at him. "Real names, please." He takes a seat across from them, and blue-eyes looks surprised from where he's standing near the staircase.

Dean glares right back. "Winchester. Dean Winchester. He's Castiel."

Derek growls a bit, deep in his throat, but backs down. "Derek Hale. He's Stiles Stilinski."

"Stilinski like Sheriff Stilinski?" Castiel asks, and holy fuck his voice is hot. It's gravely and he shivers a bit at just the sound of his own last name. He glances over at Derek to see his nostrils flaring, and a small _Really?_ being asked by his features. Stiles twists the urge to shrug, in favor of just looking back to Castiel.

"Yep, he's my dad. Can you guys get the point of why you're here or are you just gonna sit here trying to intimidate us for a little longer?"

Dean looks at him in surprise, but it turns quickly into a small smile before he speaks. "We're here to ask about the power outage three nights ago at the hospital near here. The locals told me that you and your friends are usually involved in all things crazy, so we should start here. Unless I've got the wrong Derek Hale?" He turns to Derek, who just looks bored.

"Get to the point."

Castiel speaks up, leaning coolly against the windows now. "If you're worried about us desecrating your den, I wouldn't. We have no desire to harm you unless you give us reason to." All three other men look at him in surprise, a growl bubbling up far louder this time from Derek.

"He's a werewolf?" Dean shouts at Castiel. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because he's an alpha and your gun can only get you so far without silver or wolfsbane, Dean. Leave it." He turns back to the still-growling Derek. "Would you like Dean to get away from your mate? I assume you're uncomfortable having an armed hunter next to a human you care for."

Derek glares a bit more but nods and stops growling. Dean sighs and gets up, walking to Castiel instead of fighting more. He's muttering something indiscernible to human ears, but Stiles can see Derek smirk a bit, which makes Stiles smile too.

"Alright, so now that the dog's out of the bag-" Derek huffs and Stiles smirks a little, "-we can do formal introductions. I'm Stiles Stilinski, human and best friend to an alpha named Scott. This is Derek Hale, my boyfriend and also an alpha. Now you!"

Castiel rolls his eyes but Dean speaks anyway. "I'm Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I like long walks on the beach and frisky women." Castiel squints a bit at that but he doesn't seem to notice. "I'm a hunter, could clean a gun before I could ride a bike. This is Castiel, my boyfriend. He doesn't have a last name, because we're not married yet and his family is incredibly weirdly structured."

"What are you?" Derek questions Castiel. That's weird. He'd be able to smell a gun if the man had one, and he'd know if he were some kind of creature he'd ever heard of.

"I'm an angel of the Lord." Stiles goes wide-eyed. Angel? How the hell does that work?

"It's not much different than demonic possession," Castiel says. _Fuck, Stiles thought out loud again._ "I take a human vessel given their consent and enter their body. I can relinquish control if I desire, but Jimmy Novak's-" he gestures to his body. "-soul is no longer in this body."

"Where is he?" Derek asks.

"Heaven, with his wife." Castiel smiles a bit at that, like Jimmy is still his friend even though he's not around anymore. Hell, he probably is. If the guy's telling the truth, and Derek hasn't called him out so he's most likely being honest, he can visit his vessel any time.

"So wait, demons are an actual thing? We've only dealt with the Nogitsune," Stiles says.

"No-what-su-what?" Dean asks.

"Nogitsune. A trickster spirit. A kitsune gone bad, sorta. I was possessed by one once, he made me do a lot of very not-nice things, yada yada. He didn't get my consent though, I never wanted him to get in my head in the first place." He looks solemnly to Derek, who's wearing that sad little expression he gets every time the Nogitsune is brought up.

"Demons don't need permission. We've dealt with everything from the king of hell to the four horsemen of the apocalypse." Stiles is on the verge of making a Metallica joke, but Dean keeps going. "Cas here can't get in your head unless you specifically say yes. Some angels are dicks and they'll trick you, like Lucifer, but most-"

Stiles interrupts him. "Wait a second, _Lucifer_? Like... _**LUCIFER**_ Lucifer? Satan. In the flesh. Actual Lucifer?"

"He possessed me at one point, as well as Dean's brother. And Vince Vincente. And the president," Cas says with a small smile, as though it was nothing new. Like this mind-blowing shit was just another Tuesday with Asia.

"Shit, Isaac loved Vince Vincente." Stiles turns to Derek. "And you voted for Jeff!"

"To be fair, he wasn't Satan until after inauguration," Dean says with a smile.

"Are you guys done with what you need here? I'd like to go to bed soon," Derek bites out.

"Why, Cas givin' your silent and broodiness a run for its money?"

"Dean-"

"Give it up, Fido. We aren't going anywhere until you explain what the hell is going on that your town is a supernatural shit-show."

Derek growls loudly and Stiles knows where this is going. "Derek-" he tries but he's too late, Derek is already in the process of slamming Dean into the windows and pinning him there, chest to the hunter's back.

"Show some respect in the den of an alpha, hunter," he grits out through bared fangs while he grabs Dean's gun and throws it across the room.

Castiel calmly glides over and places two fingers on Derek's forehead. "Let him go or I'll smite you without a second thought," he says, eyes flashing a much brighter blue than a beta wolf's. This is far more power in a being than even Derek possesses. Seeming to sense that, he steps an inch back and shoves Dean into Castiel's chest. He doesn't shift back though, staying half wolfed-out.

"I'm the only one you're allowed to pin against walls from here on out, got it?" Stiles says, hoping to break the ice a bit. It clearly works, because Dean chuckles and Derek gives him a look of appraisal.

He continues on, "How long are you guys gonna stay here? Like, in town, I mean. Because I don't think we have motels and obviously this place isn't exactly safe- not that you guys aren't fully capable of kicking ass or anything. I just, y'know, if you're gonna be here a few days I think you should talk to the pack alpha- that's Scott- and see if he can find you a place to stay where he can watch you for any funny business. Like, just in case you decide to kill us in our sleep or-"

"Stiles," Derek cuts in, gently. He nods and they both turn to the two visitors. "Scott will tell you everything you need to know. I'll call him and have him over as early as I can get him tomorrow morning. For now, you two take the guest room upstairs. Stiles can show you where it is."

Stiles melts a little bit at the authority in his boyfriend's voice. "Yeah, come on." He jumps up and climbs the stairs, pleased to hear two sets of heavy feet clambering behind him. He walks down the hall a bit and to the third door on the right, walking in and gesturing around. "Welcome to your home for the next 8 hours!"

They both walk in and survey it a bit, Dean choosing to plop onto the bed and laugh at the bounce. "Dude, for a pompous ass, your boyfriend has good taste in mattresses."

"You're not the only one who thinks so," Castiel says with a slight grimace.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asks, sitting on the bed next to where Dean's sprawled out.

"It reeks of sex in here." Dean and Stiles both grin at that, and Castiel rolls his eyes.

"Cas, I doubt you're gonna find a room in a werewolf's den that hasn't been christened. We're lucky Sammy doesn't have crazy smell, because he'd refuse to look at me again if he even looked at the table," Dean says with a smirk.

"Who's Sammy?" Stiles asks before he can stop himself.

"He's my brother. Sam Winchester, he's four years younger than me and he's the human equivalent of a puppy with a shotgun," Dean says with a bit of a preen. He looks the way Derek does whenever someone talks about Scott.

"I'm pretty sure if anyone's the human equivalent of a puppy, it's our pack alpha. He's too nice sometimes. One time he had 150k in a bag from a guy who tried to kill all of us but he insisted on giving it to Derek because the guy was his uncle. Even though his mom couldn't pay the bills, he still did the righteous thing. And that's not even the beginning, man. He didn't become an alpha because he killed or because he was born that way, no. He's a true alpha, he's never killed anyone."

"He sounds valiant," Castiel says, leaning against the wall again. Stiles beams at that.

"Hell yeah, and he's my best friend. Even if he uses his puppy eyes to get me to do horrible evil things, like ask his ex if she wanted to go on a date with him."

Dean laughs. "Yeah, Sam did that once. I'm pretty sure it's because he thought that having his hot older brother talk to her would make his chances better."

"Talking to you is easily the single most difficult thing to manage, Dean," Cas snarks. "Especially because you insist on moaning at inopportune times."

"You do that too? Derek hates it when I do that with food," Stiles grins.

Dean laughs and says, "See? It's totally not just me."

"You are infuriating, Dean Winchester," Castiel says with a fond look in his eyes.

"STILES," comes a voice from downstairs.

"Well, this was nice but I've gotta run. Nighty night! Enjoy the sex stench, Castiel!" Stiles smiles at them before running down the stairs to Derek, leaving Castiel to shut the door.


	3. Spy Kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is one of the most fun things I've ever written, next to Hopeless Romantic's first chapter. Note the new tags I added! ;)

When he reaches the last stair, Stiles almost runs straight into 6" of rock. Well, werewolf, but they're basically the same thing. Derek doesn't look unhappy, but he currently has planted on Brow Expression #38, " _you gonna tell me what that was?_ ", with the rest of his face being unsurprisingly stoic.

"Y'know, it's rude to eavesdrop," Stiles says, quirking a brow up.

"I have to make sure you're safe," is Derek's reply.

Stiles chuckles a bit. It had taken a while, but somewhere along the way he'd stopped being vastly embarrassed by Derek's matey-wolfy talk. "Oh baby, subtly imply that I matter to you more. I may very well swoon," he says sarcastically, knowing the wolf sees right through it.

Derek must decide not to comment. "Brush your teeth and get to bed. I'm going to clean up your study mess."

"The boss of me, you are not," Stiles says in his greatest Yoda impression. He recieves an unimpressed eyebrow raise in return. Well, fuck Derek. He wouldn't know true comedy if it was six inches up his ass. Stiles still saunters over to the bathroom to follow the orders, though. He was gonna do it anyway, so whatever. Fuck Derek.

Fuck Derek sounds like a very good plan. Be fucked by Derek? No, that doesn't sound right. Permit the baseborn Derek access to his sublime ass, just to show him how truly gracious of a mate he has. Perfect.

With teeth brushed he flops on the bed belly first, then shuffles out of his clothes. All expect for his boxer briefs, but Derek likes to take those off and they're pretty comfy anyway. Thank God for the Hale money that pays for his quality underwear.

Derek walks in looking distracted, but strips himself as well. He doesn't put on a show or anything, barely glances at Stiles. He climbs into bed next to the boy, who figures he's probably listening in on Dean and Castiel. Fucking weirdo.

"What's so interesting that your mostly-naked mate isn't catching your attention?"

"Shhh."

"Rude."

"Shut up, Stiles."

Stiles waits a minute and in the meantime gives Derek a glare, because he's petty as fuck and pulling his version of the infamous teacher _I'll wait_ is his biggest defense.

Derek glances over, then sighs and speaks. "The hunter is on the phone. I think he's talking to another hunter."

"What makes you think that?"

"He said, 'I'm figuring it out, but so far we've only got one wolf and some info on maybe another pack'."

"Does it sound like he's calling for backup?"

"No, he was just giving a rundown of the last couple hours. He's off the phone now."

Stiles narrows his eyes. "So why are you still listening?"

Derek flinches a bit and looks at Stiles. "Because Castiel knows I am."

Stiles looks at him like he's fucking crazy. Because, yeah, he kinda is. How does he know that Castiel knows?

°•°•°•°•°

"Cas..."

"Shhh. Don't want the wolf to hear you, do you?"

Dean can't be blamed for the whimper that comes out at that. It's not the prospect of Derek listening in, it's the fact that the angel just hit his prostate like it offended him.

"Maybe you do want him to hear you, is that it? Do you want Derek to come up here and fuck you instead?"

Castiel adds a third finger at that moment and Dean whines, long and loud. Cas' fingers fill him so good, he twists and prods and stretches just the way Dean likes it. Just this side of too rough and just this side of teasing, Dean already feels like he's stuffed full but he wants more. Being on his belly is making his cock rub up against the bedsheets with every sharp movement, and he can feel how much he's leaking with every dirty word Cas growls into his ear in between bites on his neck.

"Would you fuck him, Dean? Answer me."

Castiel crooks his fingers against that spot again when Dean's mouth opens, forcing out an uninhibited moan. "No, fuck, Cas, please..."

"What if I told you to? What if I was right there behind you, biting at your jaw and telling you how hot you are when you're stuffed full of his dick? Telling him to go harder, to use all his strength because you like to feel it for days afterwards? Answer me, would you do it?"

"No, Cas, want your cock, just you," Dean whimpers out.

Cas pulled the fingers out and smirked at Dean's pathetic whine. "Be honest and I'll give you what you want, Dean."

Dean was going to say no again, that he belongs to Cas, but the thick pressure against his slick hole has him answering quite different than what he wanted to say. "Yes, fuck, anything for you, Cas I need- _oh fuck yes_."

Cas pushes the head in and... stays there. Dean tries to push back onto him, to take him deeper, but Cas' grace is holding him down by his hips. Fucker.

Castiel growls in Dean's ear, "Tell me what you want, Dean."

"I want your cock, fuck I fucking need it please Cas," Dean begs.

"Not that, Dean. Tell me what you want and I'll give you what you need."

Dean racks his brain for what Castiel would want him to say, when it hits him. He takes a deep breath so jus voice doesn't shake much when he speaks. " _I want Derek to fuck me._ "

Cas shoves his cock in all the way, grinding a bit to make sure Dean feels every inch, every ridge, every single part of how full of Castiel his ass is. He can feel Cas' grace pinching at his nipples, likely so the angel can have leverage when he starts plowing into Dean.

And God, he fucking does. He's fast and hard and Dean feels like he's being pulled apart and put back together over and over with each thrust. He's achingly hard and each motion sends sparks shooting through his entire body, every single inch of him feels like it's on fire.

Castiel is still mumbling in his ear while he fucks ruthlessly into Dean, things like, "my good slut", "so fucking hot", "you could take anyone's cock and you'd still beg me for mine wouldn't you". The grovel of Castiel's voice, his groans, the slap of skin on skin and the strangely hot squishing noise where they're connected, everything, it's all barely audible over the constant shout coming out of Dean's own mouth. It's being jolted every time Cas thrusts in and it sounds every bit like a bad porno, but Dean couldn't give a shit if you paid him in that moment.

He vaguely hears his fingers- his human fingers, no supernatural strength, just him being a fucking slut- tearing the sheet of the bed but he's a little too busy reveling in Castiel's groan as his cock shoots over the bedspread below him. He swears he almost blacks out in it, but he knows he didn't because he feels every single seething drop of Cas' come filling him up. The angel grinds into Dean again, both drawing it out and making sure all of his release is as deep as possible inside of him.

The thought makes Dean shiver a little, turning his head and giving Cas a shaky little smile. He gets a soft smile in return, and a sweet kiss planted on his cheek. Cas pulls out and rolls onto his back, and Dean takes it as the invitation it totally is and fits into his angel's space. He throws an arm around Castiel's torso and revels in the immediate arm around his shoulders that pulls him closer.

"Was that good? Do you want me to heal you?"

Of course the sappy fuck checks for aftercare. "Nah. I like to feel it for days afterwards, remember?" Dean pulls up a hand to poke Cas on the nose, something he'll never admit to doing. Cas makes his usual cute scrunchy face at it, and Dean continues. "It was good, though. Really good."

Cas smiles and kisses the top of his head. "Derek is going to smell my come in you tomorrow, and he'll see it as me claiming you."

Dean chuckles and looks up at Cas. "You know how fucking weird that is?"

"Yes, but it bothers me little. Sleep, Dean."

Dean snuggles in a little closer (he'll never say snuggle out loud, so help him Chuck) and burrows his face into Cas' bare chest. And because he's sappy and he knows the angel loves hearing Dean call him by his full name, he says, "I love you, Castiel."

"I love you too, Dean Winchester." They both fall asleep smiling.

°•°•°•°•°

"Tell me what they said, Derek!"

"No, Stiles."

"I'm gonna ask them tomorrow then."

"You will not."

"Will too!"

"I swear to God, Stiles, I will rip your throat out with my teeth."

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Go to sleep, Stiles."

"Don't be such a sourwolf."

"The more you say that the less funny it gets."

"Ugh, you're full of shit. Goodnight, you pompous ass."

"Sleep well, you infuriating dork."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it! No smut of mine is complete without dirty talk and a needy bottom. ALSO! Do you guys want me to actually make Dean and Derek bang or would you like just Sterek and Destiel to be their own entities? Or maybe some other pairing within those sets, lemme know. Ask and you shall receive, I am at your mercy!


	4. Bear Accessories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, not beta'd so tell me if anything is off. Also, the perspective switches a couple times but it's always pretty obvious whose perspective it's in at the moment and where the switch takes place. Hope y'all enjoy this!
> 
> The song Dean sings is Angel Eyes by The Jeff Healey Band, and Isaac's underwear is totally from the picture of Misha hanging up all his underwear to dry. In the top left you can see the ones I'm talking about, but I'm too lazy to link to it lmao

Castiel woke up with his chest covered in saliva that wasn't his own. Thankfully, it didn't belong to either of the two homeowners either. Dean was snoring and mumbling a bit in his sleep. For the hunter whose name shakes the bones of demons and angels alike, the man looked precious.

Castiel focused a bit of his grace in his mind, pleased to see that Dean was dreaming kindly. He didn't do this often, dream-walking. Then again, Dean didn't have good dreams often either. Especially not in beds that weren't his own. Castiel had quickly chosen to move into Dean's room instead of vice versa when the option came into play, for that very reason.

In Dean's subconscious, Castiel allowed himself to move with the other's desires. He sat, speaking with Sam about pastries while Dean quietly played guitar. The conversation was interesting, even though Dream-Sam could fondly tell that Castiel was focusing mainly on Dean. He would sing softly every once in a while, songs Castiel recognized vaguely but not explicitly.

_So tonight I'll ask the stars above, how did I ever win your love?_

Castiel responded to Sam's question about early Roman sweets, saying that he didn't have much relations with the humans during the Roman era, seeing as they were a bit more fixated on their own gods at the time than his Father.

_What did I do? What did I say?_

Sam asked him how Heaven felt about being seconded by other dieties, and he opened his mouth to respond. Something choked him up, and he looked to Dean. The man was grinning at him as he played.

_To turn your angel eyes my way?_

Castiel could feel his eyes soften, but he didn't care enough to school himself.

_Don't anyone wake me if it's just a dream._

Sam rolled his eyes and groaned, but it was all a front. He'd said multiple times how great Dean and Cas were together.

_'Cause he's the best thing that ever happened to me._

Castiel flooded with the kind of emotions he only felt with Dean, and he snapped out of Dean's head. He woke his human up with a soft kiss, which turned a bit more passionate as Dean came back to. Soon the angel was kissing more teeth than anything else, because Dean was was grinning too widely to kiss.

Castiel opted to roll them over so Dean was on his back instead. He kissed at his chest, focusing on his heart but being sure to lavish each nipple until he could feel the pull of Dean's arousal heavy in his head. He sucked and bit marks into the freckled skin of his pecs and shoulders, kissing every one after in apology.

Dean was quiet, sleepy sighs and breathy whispers of _Cas_ all the noise he made. Castiel was content to be dead silent and listen only to his lover. To the way his heart gradually speed up the lower Castiel went on his torso, the way it slowed when Castiel eased up and focused on taking him in with his eyes. To the way his skin sounded combined with Castiel's tongue, a wet noise of suction that Dean always said was a guilty pleasure for both of them. To every single breath: deep, hitched, or shaken.

Dean pulled Castiel's hair eventually, and the angel let it slide this time, only because it meant he got to kiss his hunter. It was hungry, but so full of devotion, so undeniably passionate. Castiel couldn't help but let out a low groan at the thought that something Dean's an expert on is unfamiliar now because it expresses his love. Castiel was the only person who would ever live this exact moment, get this exact kiss with every single feeling.

Dean kept one hand on the nape of Castiel's neck, the other clawing slowly down his torso. The hunter reached Castiel's cock and was rewarded with another groan. Castiel thrust shallowly into Dean's hand, knowing he'd understand the implied offer. If he declined, it was his prerogative and Castiel would respect it.

It turned out he did want it, because Castiel felt himself being guided to Dean's entrance, still wet and stretched from the night before. He pulsed a little Grace through Dean as he was pulled in anyway, careful not to take away any more of the burn than strictly necessary. Dean liked to feel, he liked to know he wa being filled in the way he only ever has with Castiel.

Castiel just liked to hear the whining sigh he received from the love of his life when he entered him.

He took Dean's hand away and intertwined their fingers instead, bottoming out smoothly and dropping his head to kiss his hunter. He wrapped his free hand around Dean's cock, stroking in time with his gentle thrusts. Dean's breaths were high in pitch and tremulous as they left his throat, and Castiel heard his own breaths leaving as low noises.

"Love you, Cas. Love you so much, need you."

" _Dean!_ " Castiel's body trembled as his orgasm took him over unexpectedly, his hunter groaning and kissing him through it.

He pulled out and took a moment to catch his breath, then kissed Dean until he was whining and writing again. He lowered three fingers to his lover and pushed them in, abandoning his cock in favor of aiming for his prostate with skilled fingers.

He spoke in Dean's ear softly, "So good for me. So perfect, you're breathtaking. Dean, you're so good. Come for me, love. Let go, I've got you. You're okay, you're perfect. My love-." Dean clenched down hard, and his mouth opened in a silent scream. His toes curled, his eyes rolled into his head, his back arched, and his nails dug into the pillow. Castiel moved his mouth quickly to catch his release in his mouth, still massaging his prostate as he swallowed pulse after pulse of cum and watched his lover fall apart. Dean cried out after a moment, signaling oversensitivity to Castiel, who pulled his fingers out gently and lifted his mouth off of Dean's length.

Dean laid for a while, catching his breath and letting his heart rate slow to a normal peace. His eyes were closed, his mouth slack and body sprawled out. Castiel still lay between his legs, just looking up at him.

"'S rude to stare, Angel Eyes."

He met Dean's cracked eyes and preened at the smile he got the chance to return.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"They're fucking, aren't they," Stiles blearily questioned.

"Go back to sleep, Stiles," Derek said, ignoring the content of Stiles' sentence.

"Can't sleep, m' thinkin' 'bout sex now." The words were followed by a grin that at any other point Derek would kiss off Stiles' face, and the boy knew it too. Not this time, though; this time Derek was going to take into consideration the supernatural powers of his guests.

When it was the pack in other rooms, Derek didn't give a shit. He considered it payback for the time Erica played Miley Cyrus' _Party in the U.S.A._ in an attempt to cancel out the gunshots of Isaac's CS:GO tournament, which ensued in a battle of laptop volumes.

So yeah. If Derek wanted to fuck Stiles until he screamed, the pack could either suck it up and wait it out or go somewhere else.

Derek walked into the bathroom, intending to just take a piss, but Stiles fumbled onto the floor and yelled "SHOWER SEX" approximately seven times in quick succession before Derek was able to get a hand over his mouth.

"No sex until our guests leave," he growled, putting a bit of Alpha in his voice.

He removed the hand and Stiles released a pitiful whining groan that would sound like pure agony to anyone else. To Derek, it sounded like bullshit. "I'm being cock-blocked by an Angel of the Lord who threatened to smite you yesterday. I'm kicking them out immediately."

Derek fought a smile, instead feigning surprise. "Where's your hospitality, Stiles?" Stiles repeated the words in a mockingly deep voice, and Derek didn't bother suppressing his grin this time. "How about you go up there and offer to wash the sheets? They're gonna need it."

Stiles squawked, and Derek took that as his cue to walk back into the bathroom. He listened as Stiles ran up the stairs and knocked on the guest door.

"Hey, you guys up?"

He didn't hear the response over the sink running as he washed his hands, but he doubted it mattered much.

"Cool, uh... Coming in hot." The door opened and greetings were shared.

"How'd you guys sleep?"

"Very well. How about you and Derek?" Castiel responded. The guy spoke so... fancy. He was like a sanctimonious version of Deaton.

"Like logs. Well, I slept like a log. Derek slept like a furry, grumpy, attractive log." He could hear the smile in the boy's voice. Derek was not furry, Stiles would know.

"I thought werewolves didn't sleep a ton. Hyper-senses and all that jazz," Dean said.

Derek started making coffee in the kitchen as Castiel spoke up instead of Stiles. "They still need sleep to function. Their biology is similar to that of a human and a wolf, both of which require sleep. They simply require less sleep, yet they often aim for more than strictly necessary, as humans do. Most creatures need some form of rest to recharge."

"Yeah, yeah. You're one of the lucky few who has no need for the horribly mortal requirement of sleep, rub it in."

Wait, Castiel doesn't- "You don't need sleep?" Stiles asked.

"No, my Grace restores my body as necessary." Huh. Derek climbed the stairs, coffee in hand.

"What's Grace?"

"It's a source of-"

"Angel mojo," Dean interrupted. "God made all the Angels and gave them an endless power that recharges itself through some complex Heaven systems. Each Angel has their own special mix of Grace, so Cas' wouldn't be nearly as badass if Ishim were to take it as it is just in his own body."

Castiel sighed. "It's far more complicated, but he's right."

Derek stood in the cracked doorway and nodded to Dean and Castiel by way of greeting. Stiles turned and smiled at Derek from where he was sitting on the foot of the bed before looking back at Castiel. "So Grace is how you kill things?"

Dean snorted, but the Angel spoke. "Yes, though more often than not it's used for other things."

"Like?" Stiles pushed.

Dean looked to Castiel expectantly, and the Angel rolled his eyes. He held up a hand anyway, and with a snap of his fingers Dean was holding a coffee-filled mug. Derek's mug, to be exact. "Give it back," he demanded.

Dean grinned and spit in the coffee. Stiles burst into laughter. "It's his now," the boy choked out.

Castiel just looked exasperated, like he knew he shouldn't be as surprised as he was by the hunter's brashness. Suddenly the coffee was back in Derek's hand, and Dean let out an indignant "hey!".

"It's as it was before. I apologise, Dean has a sense of humor roughly equivalent to that of a 6-year-old," Castiel said pointedly.

Derek made eye contact with Dean and smugly drank his coffee. The hunter scowled. Good. Derek is the Alpha, he deserves respect.

"I thought it was funny," Stiles murmured.

"You're nothing like a 6-year-old, Stiles," Derek assured him. "You're at least 7 and a half."

Dean snorted. "Cradle robber."

"Hey!" Stiles protested. "I bet you and Castiel aren't as close in age as you look."

That poses a good question. "How old are you?" Derek asked Castiel.

"This vessel is 42."

He just raised an eyebrow. "You know what I meant."

Dean smirked. "He's about as old as time."

Stiles squeaked, "JESUS CHRIST", just as Derek caught the pack's scent.

"Derek, this better be important!" Isaac yelled the second the front door was shoved open.

Stiles beamed widely and Dean looked around, likely to make sure he had a weapon available to him. Tough luck. He left his gun downstairs after Derek threatened him yesterday.

"Isaac kept fighting me about pants," Erica shouted as she burst through the doorway. She looked directly at Derek. "Don't ask me where he got those, because I swear to god I only bought him the ones you told me to."

The aforementioned wolf burst in next, wearing a Captain America shirt and... blue teddy bear boxer briefs.

Stiles barely got out a snort before his laughter had him wheezing. Castiel was staring at Isaac's bear-face junk with confusion and Dean was eyeing Erica up.

This was an absolute fucking mess immediately.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Dean tore his eyes away from Hot Chick when two more guys packed into the room as well. One was dark, bulky, and a little too hot for his own good. The other had an air of innocence about him that still somehow radiated protectiveness. Hot Guy was probably the alpha named Scott, and the other was probably a beta or something.

"Hello," Castiel spoke, breaking up the commotion with that one word. He was looking directly at Beta Guy, finally taking his eyes off of Isaac's teddy bear dick.

Beta Guy looked at Derek, then back at Dean and Cas when he obviously got nothing from the alpha's stupid stoic face. "Who are you?" he asked. He was probably Stiles' age with that voice.

"They're hunters," Derek answered. "Winchesters."

Isaac's eyes widened, then flashed yellow as they angrily flitted between Dean and Cas. "Which one of you is fucking my aunt Eileen?" he demanded.

Hot Chick snickered. "Neither, dumbass," she said, and wrapped an arm around Isaac's shoulders. She wafted a hand under his nose. "There's gotta be a third Winchester, or else one of these two is definitely gonna have wondering to tell your auntie."

Isaac blanched again and Hot Chick grinned. She slapped a hand against his chest and goddamn she's fucking hot.

 _If you want to sleep with a woman, you know my rules. But I don't think Boyd will let you have Erica._ An image flashed across his head of Hot Guy wrapping his arms around Hot Chick's waist from behind, both of them sharing a soft smile.

Well damn. Expert head-jumping, Cas.

Dean focused back on the topic at hand though, and something connected. "Wait, you're Eileen Lahey's nephew?" The kid nodded, and Dean grinned. "She's dating my brother Sammy! I'm Dean, this is Castiel."

"Sam Winchester is your brother?" Beta Guy asked.

"Yep," Dean answered. "Lucky him, huh?"

"I think you're both lucky enough to be alive, from what Eileen has told us." He looked at Castiel. "You pulled both of them out of Hell?"

Dean's eyes widened, but Cas just smiled and nodded. "They're my family," he responded. "Scott, correct? The pack alpha?"

The boy's eyes flashed red. Dean was wrong, it seemed. "Yeah, but it's pretty much joint custody with Derek."

Stiles piped up. "Pack dads!" Derek groaned and Scott grinned. Dean decided he liked Scott far more than Derek. The latter was a dick, but this guy seemed pretty alright.

Fuck. Speaking of pack shit, this was serious business they were here for.

"I'm gonna cut to the chase here, what happened at the hospital a couple nights back?" Dean prompted.

It went silent. "We uh..." Stiles began. "We're working on it."

Boyd answered more accurately, "We have no clue. Any help is welcomed, just don't kill anyone unless we tell you they're bad."

Shit. "Cas, any ideas?" Dean asked. The angel looked as if he was thinking for a moment, then shrugged. "Alright, well that's just peachy. Do you know how the kid got healed up? None of you are named Liam, so I assume he's not a part of your posse."

"Actually, that's not entirely true," Scott said. "He's the only beta who was actually turned by me. He just... gets overwhelmed sometimes. By, y'know, wolf stuff."

"Why did you turn him then? If you don't mind me asking," Castiel questioned.

"It was that or let him fall 200 feet to certain death," Scott said with a grimace. Good. At least he regrets it. "There was a wendigo coming after us and he was slipping and I couldn't grab him and I panicked and-"

"Scott," Cas cut in. "You don't have to explain yourself to me." The angel was so gentle, and Scott looked like he just got a weight taken off his shoulders.

Derek actually looked pleased with Cas. Probably wolfy protection instincts or something. It was actually kind of sweet.

"Hate to ruin the moment, but am I needed or can I go? I've been basking in the scents of coffee and sex since I walked in here and if I don't get one or both pronto I might cut a bitch."

Goddamn. Erica was definitely hot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to let me know how you feel about any intermingled Sterek/Destiel jams. I'm thinking Dean sandwiched between Derek and Stiles sounds hot as hell, but if that's not something you'd be interested in let me know! Or even if it is, tell me so I know what you guys want~ Also thinking of a one-shot of Dean/Erica.
> 
> I live for poly!Destiel, somebody please stop me.


	5. Whipped Cream and Waffles and Were-Zombies, Oh My!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. Hello, Cas/Stiles. Wasn't anticipating you being here. OH WELL. You can skip the like part in Stiles' perspective if you're not sure to clown with that. It doesn't actually involve physical touching, just some severe stretching on Angel capabilities.
> 
> All mistakes are my own, this is unbeta'd! Feel free to let me know of any fuck-ups I may have made. :)

Breakfast had sounded like a good idea. Sure, it kinda freaked Dean out, but when there's a chance your heart could be breakfast you've got a bit of wiggle room when it comes to trust. Also, its worth noting that there are currently 6 werewolves, one grown man, one hyperactive teenager, and one Angel of the Lord trekking to a little mom-and-pop diner.

But it had sounded like a good idea, it really did! They could sit around, eat food, make better decisions, talk, get to know each other, and generally explain what the fuck is happening. It would be awesome. Plus, Stiles swore by the Belgian waffles. Cas always makes those pretty little noises when he eats whipped cream.

So this could only go well, really. Because even if everything goes to hell, Cas would smite the shit out of 7 kids before he let them kill Dean.

It did not go well.

For starters, Derek insulted _Baby_. Cas said he was just jealous, but nobody talks about Baby's mileage like that. 14 per gallon is good enough for Dean, fuck you very much. At least his car isn't a douchey Camaro. His Baby sounds like a lady, Derek's sounds like a drunk lawnmower.

The drive itself was fine. Dean and Cas followed Derek and the pack, and we're flanked by Stiles in a shitty Jeep and Scott on an arguably-not-awful motorcycle. It would've been better if it wasn't bright green.

Of course, the second they got there Derek had to insult Baby again. "Tell your engine to stop tap dancing, Dean," he had said. Dean looked at Cas, desperately asking with his face if he could punch the alpha. Cas raised an eyebrow.

When they got in, Derek sat exactly next to Dean before Cas could sit down. He had this smug little look on his face that Stiles was trying not to laugh at.

Wow, Derek's a dick! What new information. This wa quite a turn of events. Dean was utterly shocked.

The pack clearly didn't notice anything happening, even as Cas and Stiles sat next to each other a little awkwardly. They were across from their respective partners, and the pack was pulling up chairs all around them.

Dean decided to stretch his mind out. Two could play it this game. _Hey, babe? Can you fuck with him a little bit?_

_No, Dean._

_I promise I'll wear those pretty panties you like when we get home._

_You'd wear them for me anyway._

_For a week._

_Plug too._

_You're a cruel son of a bitch._ Cas raised an eyebrow. _Fine, deal. You better really piss him off._

Cas' mischievous smile was the only warning before Stiles squeaked.

"Stiles?" Derek asked.

"I'm alright, sorry. Thought there was a spider," the boy said. Derek would know it was a lie, and that made Dean absolutely giddy.

He didn't know what Cas had even done, but Derek looked suspicious. Good. The pack were conversing among themselves, thankfully ignoring the four of them.

Cas leaned in to whisper in Stiles' ear, and Dean couldn't hear but he knew Derek could. Stiles shivered and nodded at whatever Cas said. Dean looked at Derek, whose smug expression was now one of angry shock.

What the fuck did Cas say?

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"Do you want to see what my Grace can do, Stiles?" Castiel whispered in his ear. His hand was still on his thigh, and Stiles was trying so hard to keep himself in check. He had learned the hard way that werewolves can not only hear when his heart skipped, but fucking _smell_ when he's horny. Castiel had to know that.

It doesn't excuse the fact that he nodded.

Derek didn't even touch him that morning, so he's totally all for dealing with a claiming alpha later. Whatever. Not like Castiel was gonna fuck him in the middle of a diner.

Stiles looks at Derek's grumpy face and smirks at him. Hah- _oh fuck._

It felt like a soft warm breeze directly on his dick. It just stroked gently, bringing Stiles to attention. It was fluid but solid at the same time, and Castiel's hands were above the table now. This was his fucking Grace. Stiles was getting stroked by Angel mojo.

"Isaac, have you spoken to Eileen about meeting us yet?" Castiel said, slightly distracting Stiles from the silky grip now fully engulfing his dick.

"Nah, I think she's out hunting a nest of vampires or something," Isaac replied.

"Bet she's at the bunker," Dean snickered, just as Stiles felt a tendril touch his hole. Oh fucking hell.

The wolves were all looking at him now, probably smelling how turned on he was. God dammit. He looked up at Dean, who looked exaggeratedly concerned. The fucker probably put Castiel up to this.

Derek, on the other hand, looked like he was desperately trying to keep his wolf down. The second his eyes locked with Derek's red ones, the Grace pushed into his ass and he squeezed his eyes shut while he fought to stave off a groan.

The Grace around his dick was squeezing in waves, and the Grace inside of him was going deeper. It was slow but sure, but it was so slow. He wanted to beg for more, but at the same time he wanted Castiel to have his goddamn way with him.

 _Go ahead._ He heard Castiel's voice, but it didn't sound like it was in his ear. He glanced around, and none of the wolves were looking at him like he said anything. _Beg. Focus on me, focus on feeling my Grace. And use that focus to tell me what you want, Stiles._

He looked at Castiel, and focused on the Grace now expanding in his ass like a phallic balloon, stretching him. There was no pain. It felt... Good. Not just mind-numbing sexy good (which it totally was), but good in nature. Soft and gentle, but with an aura of sure and powerful.

_I want you to make me come._

He would feel bad for Derek, but he knew the wolf thought Dean was hot. So this is fine. More than fine. An opening, really, to fuck Dean and let Stiles watch. Or join.

The Grace was pushing faster and deeper, so fucking deep. It was angled so good, hitting his prostate every single thrust. And the stretch at his rim was so much like Derek, like a knot at the base of a cock and fuck- would Derek knot Dean? Grind in deep, stretch him out, pump him full of come- fuck-

"Derek, god-" he groaned, right as he came in his pants. Whoops. The wolves all scoffed and protested as they smelled it, Erica and Dean laughing as the others threw out exasperated remarks.

Derek looked... proud. Like he knew that while it was Castiel who pleasured Stiles, it was only the thought of _him_ that pushed his mate over the edge. Stiles was whipped enough that his boyfriend looking like he just staked a claim made him grin, even while the whisps of Grace pulled away from his body.

His ass went right back to it's normal tightness like nothing just happened. Odd.

"The fuck was that, Stilinski?" Erica asked, before snorting her way into another fit of giggles.

"Don't worry about it," Derek said. He was staring directly at Castiel, eyes red. The Angel just gazed right on back, his face void of any emotion.

°•°•°•°•°•°

"I hope that indignant stunt was worth it, Dean." Cas had held his tongue (and his mind) while they were in the diner, but clearly he couldn't hold back from chastising Dean about it now. Hanging around Sam was bad for him.

"It's not like you did anything beyond a little harmless fun," Dean replied, eyes filled with humor as they glanced over to Cas. "We just pissed off Mr. Grouchy-Fangs. I wasn't expecting you to Grace-fuck his boyfriend, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth."

Castiel sighed at that. "Perhaps that was a bit too far."

Dean just snorted. "It was fucking perfect, is what it was." He pulled into Derek's garage, picking a spot far from the door so his Baby would remain as unscathed as possible. He exited the car and began heading up to the loft. When Cas followed and was next to him again he continued. "You challenged not only his superiority, but his mating claim. Dude, if anything, Stiles is in for it. I'm sure Fluffy's pretty inclined to mark his territory now."

"Yes, but the first part is more notable. He sees me as a threat, a challenge. He doesn't trust me, Dean." Cas stopped, turning Dean to look in his eyes. "He won't tell me anything about the case because he doesn't know that I won't let pretty quarrels get in between the lives of those he cares for."

Dean glared a bit at Cas, but the Angel could probably feel the man's resolve. "Whatever."

"I'm going to explain to Derek what happened, Dean." The hunter turned away and kept walking.

"You mention the deal and I will tear your dick apart cell by cell."

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Castiel should have expected this. Alas, he was now staring wide-eyed at a werewolf. An Alpha werewolf who had him pinned to a wall.

He was just going to ask for a glass of water.

"What the fuck was that, Castiel?" Derek growled through his fangs.

He could play dumb, but it would get him nowhere. Dean was speaking to Sam with Isaac, "I made a deal with Dean," he replied. That sounded safe.

"Dean told you to magically fuck my boyfriend in the middle of a restaurant in front of my entire pack?"

Castiel bristled. This was bad. "Not exactly, no."

Derek's arm pushed harder. "What did he say then?" Theoretically, Castiel could break his arm with a thought if he wanted to, but he didn't think that was a good decision.

"He told me to 'fuck with you'."

Derek's upper lip pulled up in a show of aggression. Maybe the air quotations were a bad touch?

"You apologise to Stiles," Derek said instead. He loosened his grip and looked Castiel in the eyes, now human fully again. "You didn't have his permission, and even if he was turned on you had no right to do that without explicit prior consent."

Derek stepped away and looked to his bedroom, where Stiles was.

"He gave me his permission, directly. I would never use my Grace to sexually assaulted someone," Castiel insisted.

The wolf looked at Castiel through narrowed eyes, doubting for good reason. The Angel just walked over to the room where Stiles was, not wanting to continue his conversation with the Alpha right now.

Castiel knocked on the door, and at the affirmative he peeked his head in. "Hello, Stiles."

The boy looked worried sick. "He's not mad at me, is he?"

"No," Castiel assured him. "I would never put your mating bond in jeopardy. I understand the gravity of that, even if Dean doesn't."

"Was..." Stiles cut himself off, shaking his head and rubbing his hands together nervously. Then he sighed and asked, "Did Dean have you do that?"

Castiel could feel himself flush. "Not necessarily. He just asked me to annoy your mate."

Stiles raised an eyebrow as though he didn't believe it, but his laugh was out of genuine relief and amusement. "So this is all his fault and not because you want in my pants."

"Your words, not mine." Stiles and Castiel both chuckled. "Sincerely, though, I mean no harm to you or Derek. Dean can be rather convincing when he wants to be."

Stiles smirked. "He bribed you with sex, didn't he?"

"Something to that effect, I suppose." Castiel chose his next words carefully, knowing Dean would be grumpy if Castiel told Stiles the actual deal. "Though, we have far too much sex as is for that alone to be used as a wager."

Stiles' eyes narrowed. "Derek wouldn't tell me if you guys fucked last night or not. Did you?" Then his face flushed and he squeaked out, "Never mind! Forget I asked. That was super weird. My brain to mouth filter is poor on a good day, man. Sorry, seriously, I-"

"We did. I apologise for disturbing him, I suppose I was too caught up in the moment to barrier the sound." Castiel was lying out of his ass then, knowing Derek would hear every word and know that last night was absolutely intentional. If nothing else, it was just icing on the cake of Dean's deal. This little bit just meant he would wear the vibrating plug, with Castiel manning the remote.

Stiles looked like he had a million questions, but he pushed them all down. "I don't think Derek was actually upset by it at all. If anything, just a little flustered. Erica and Boyd bang in the guest room sometimes too, and he always just shouts at them to keep it down. His cheeks get all pink, though, like-"

The door opened, revealing the Alpha in question. "You end that sentence and I'll rip your throat out with my teeth." Stiles just flashed him a fond grin, forgetting about Castiel completely. Derek looked at the Angel and said, "Dean's speaking with Scott in the living room if you wanna join them. Better than hearing everything second-hand."

That was clearly more of a request than an invitation, and Castiel took it. He nodded at Stiles in a bid farewell and took his leave.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°

"So basically, you've got jack shit."

"Isn't that why you're here?"

Dean sighed. Scott was a really sweet kid, but he didn't seem like a very competent leader. How this pack had lasted this long was a mystery.

"We could ask Deaton, maybe," the wolf suggested.

"Before we consult your emissary, could you go into a little more detail on the history of the town and some of the supernatural dynamics here?" Cas prompted.

"Again, Deaton knows the most about that," Scott winced. "Derek might be able to give you a foundational knowledge based on what he learned from his family. The only person who knows more than Deaton about this stuff is a psychotic werewolf who's easier to kill than trust, and Derek already killed him once."

"118 times," Dean grinned.

Scott just stared at him, confused, and Cas just rolled his eyes. "The amount of times you've died is not reason for boasting, Dean."

Scott's jaw dropped, but Dean ignored it. "You're just mad because you've only died 5 times."

Cas squinted at him. "The only thing that upsets me about that is that only 2 of your 118 deaths were absolved by me."

"Wait, what?" Scott blurted.

Both of the men looked at Scott, then each other, and Dean laughed at the _god dammit Dean look what you've done_ so clearly written across his Angel's face. "Don't worry 'bout it. The point is I'm here, right? Tell us about the were-zombie, though."

Scott still looked caught between horrified and dumbstruck (poor kid), but went with it. "He, uh... His name's Peter Hale. He has a daughter, Malia. And he's Derek's uncle. He was the Alpha that turned me, but then Derek killed him and became the Alpha. Then our friend Lydia was under some weird Banshee-mind-control fog and brought him back to life. Now he's just a psychopathic beta who's really doing his best to gain everyone's trust, while also making it very clear that the only reason he wants to be trusted is to take advantage of us."

Cas squinted. "Would you like me to kill him?"

"Not before we get any and all possible intel," Dean objected. He'd gotten leads from worse sources. Besides, he was a Knight of Hell at one point. He wasn't in a place to judge.

"You're not going to kill my uncle without me," shouted Derek's voice from downstairs.

"Yeah, well, clearly you're no help when it comes to killing him," Dean yelled back. "Let the big boys handle it!"

There was a little scuffle and Cas scowled at him. Stiles probably stopped Derek from prowling upstairs, and the thought satisfied Dean like a good cold beer.

Scott, on the other hand, sighed. "Can you guys not argue for, like, two seconds?"

"Hey!" Dean replied, eloquently. He was a fucking man, who were these asshole teenagers trying to-

"No, Dean, he's right," Cas cut in. "Stop being a petulent child and work the case like you're supposed to."

This was probably what it felt like to be a character in Game of Thrones. You could've found that very moment in a dictionary, right next to the word 'betrayal'. This was animal cruelty towards a party animal. Un-fucking-believable.

Dean was about to shoot a rebuttal, but Cas looked so final about it, and goddamn. Whatever. Dean could take a loss, no problem. He turned to Scott and tried not to glare. "Where can we find Peter? I'll talk to your witch doctor and Cas will deal with Night of the Living Dead."

Scott shifted a bit, and squinted at the ceiling as he thought. "He kinda... drifts. I think he's probably in the woods right now, somewhere. I could call him?"

"Go for it."

Scott nodded and whipped out his phone, tapping quicker than Dean had thought possible. Teenagers these days, sheesh.

"Hey, uh, can you come to the loft?... Of course we need you. We've got two hunters here who- no, god, nobody's hurt. Malia isn't even here... Winchesters... Yes, really, now can you come over?... I doubt there going to-" and with a scoff, the boy pulled the phone from his ear.

"It appears Peter knows who we are," Castiel said, looking at Scott in question.

"Yeah. He sounded kinda starstruck," Scott replied. "Sorry I hadn't heard of you before this all started. Seems like you're pretty famous."

"You didn't need to know our names, kid." Dean smiled at him and patted his shoulder. "You're a werewolf and all, but your pack is good. You try to handle business as best as you can around here, and I think you do a pretty okay job."

Scott grinned, and it was freaking adorable. "Really? I feel like we always screw everything up." He chuckled. "I'm never proud of myself like I'm proud of my friends. They're really badass, y'know? Most of them are Derek's betas but they all trust me and follow my guidance. So they've got all his wolfy awesomeness and strategy, and my tendency to be a little more human about things."

The kid looked so proud, it made Dean smile too. He knew the feeling.

_That's exactly what you look like when you talk about your like brother._

_Shut up, you sap._


	6. Something Strange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, I’m so bad at updating. Sorry! I do hope you guys enjoy this.

Peter was... interesting.

He carried himself similar to Crowley. Arrogant, secretive, and witty. The difference was that at least Crowley was an actual king. Peter Hale had no reason to be so smug.

Castiel didn't like him, yet he attempted to be civil. It was hard to retain his composure when Peter began to moan on about how he wasn't meeting with a real Winchester, and especially hard when he made raunchy comments about Dean's appearance.

Stiles stepped in at that point, likely noticing a flash of Grace in Castiel's eyes. It was the only thing that could've given away how angry he truly was.

Peter did, eventually, give information that was half-decent. He said that the insanity began when he turned Scott, and has progressively gotten worse since. He also explained the pack's theory regarding telluric currents, which Castiel didn't see much of a reason to put stock into. He listened anyway, because he wasn't going to distract the wolf now that he was actually focusing.

Peter, of course, only remained helpful for so long. The moment he began speaking nonsense again, Castiel simply flew himself and Stiles out of the sewer and into Derek's loft. The boy looked disoriented, but soon was asking countless questions about how it worked.

When Stiles asked to see Castiel's wings, he lied and said he could only bring a shadow into this plane. He didn't want to explain that the physical form was personal, not something you'd show off to just anyone. Wings were to angels as genitalia were to humans.

It was, though, nice to see the reaction from the shadow alone. It was nothing like when Dean first saw the shadow in that barn all those years ago. Dean had been rightfully terrified, under the impression that an all-powerful being may very well murder him. Stiles had faith in Castiel. 

The young man was intriguing. He was loud and he practically vibrated in his own skin. His thought were a mess, but he was exceedingly intelligent when he focused. He was funny and wild, but passionate and centered. He was good, but his soul was partially tainted by the memory of the Nogitsune spirit. Castiel wished it was an option to take that from him.

°•°•°•°•°

Deaton pissed Dean off. If he could just get to the fucking point instead of dragging information out through a game of 20 questions, life would be far easier. The dude was smart as hell, and clearly knew what he was doing, but goddamn. He was just... So fucking slow.

And Scott just ate it up, too. He didn't press for more, he just asked all the questions Deaton wanted and accepted the vague answers without allowing himself to crave more. The kid was too sweet for his own good.

So as much as Dean wanted to make a good impression on the kid, he was over it. He looked Deaton in the eye and told him that the whole "mysterious witch" schtick wasn't going to help them save lives.

Deaton gave him a lecture on patience. Dean left halfway through, a frustrated Scott complaining on his heels.

°•°•°•°•°

"Tell me you guys got more than we did," Dean said as he slammed the door shut behind him and Scott. Stiles saw the irritation on his best friend's face, and decided it'd be best to get that out of the way before conversations we're had.

"Yeah," Stiles replied, popping up and grabbing Scott's sleeve to drag him away. "But I gotta talk to Scott about some pack stuff before that, if you don't mind, so we're just gonna go over here for a bit, bye!"

When the door to Stiles and Derek's bedroom was shut, Scott let out an angry groan. "Let it out, bud," Stiles soothed him, pulling him down to sit on the bed and cuddle up with him. "What happened?"

Scott groaned again. "He's just... god." Stiles let out a little hum of agreement. "He's so frustrating. Deaton was trying to explain his theory and Dean wasn't even listening! And then he goes all bad cop, 'if you're going to help us you need to cut this bull and just come out with whatever you're gonna say'."

Stiles nodded again and tugged him closer, letting Scott wrap him up in octopus limbs to calm himself down. "And then Deaton tried to explain that if Dean would be patient and listen it would all make sense in a minute, but he just up and left," Scott continues. "He left! I just looked at Deaton like, 'did that just happen?' and followed him out. He wouldn't listen when I tried to get him to come back in either. He's just so... god!"

Stiles runs a hand through Scott's hair and speaks softly. "I feel like you're definitely right to be frustrated. Dean seems to be impatient and irrational often." Scott mumbled out his agreement in a passive agressive insult to Dean, and Stiles continued. "Deaton does tend to be a little more mysterious than needed sometimes, though, you gotta admit."

"Yeah, but..." Scott huffed. "Deaton has never been wrong. Dean just didn't care." Stiles hummed in agreement. "He doesn't know the situation, I get it, but he didn't even try to understand!"

"I know, buddy," Stiles said softly. "How about you go with Castiel to try talking with him later? Dean's an asshole, it takes one to handle one."

"Castiel isn't an asshole, but he can handle Dean," Scott grumbled.

"He dealt with Lucifer, Scott. Dean is probably a cakewalk for Castiel."

Scott huffed out a little laugh. "Setting the bar high, there."

Stiles eventually got them off the bed with the promise of shitty Chinese for dinner, and when they emerged from the room, Dean still looked grumpy. Castiel's face was blank, which was a bit disorienting. 

“What’d Peter say?” Scott asked as he and Stiles sat on the couch. He rested his arm around Stiles’ shoulders, rubbing his scent into the boy’s neck subconsciously. 

“Mostly, nothing. He was loathe that he couldn’t meet a ‘real Winchester’,” Castiel responded with finger quotes and everything. “He did, eventually, give a timeline of supernatural occurrences, which started gaining with the turning of Scott. He also gave me a vague rundown of the pack’s theory of tellurium currents being runways for supernatural energy.”

Dean’s eyes widened, and he looked to be putting pieces together. “Shit. Deaton was actually telling us something.”

“I told you!” Scott bursted, but Dean seemed to ignore him.

“Okay, okay. Dad mentioned telluric currents in his journal pretty often. I know you read some of it so I’m surprised you’re not getting this, Cas.” Dean looked to Scott. “The Nema... Nematode?”

“Nematon. Deaton was trying to explain to you what we thought it was.”

“Would you say it’s kinda... where spooky things tend to come from?”

“Yeah. Definitely,” Scott said. “Everything usually stems from it, and one time Parrish used to take bodies to it.”

“Who is Parrish?” Castiel asked. 

“Deputy Jordan Parrish,” Stiles responded. “Hellhound shapeshifter.”

Both of the hunters’ eyes widened and they looked at each other. “I think it’s...”

Castiel nodded. “It sounds like it.”

Stiles was getting fed up with the lack of information. “Like what?” He demanded. 

“We can’t just- god,” Dean sighed. “Take us there. To the Nematon. If it is what we think it is, we’ll tell you, but otherwise there’s no need to get you involved in that stuff.”

Stiles wanted to press for more, but Scott was up and at the door before he could ask questions. Fucker. 

°•°•°•°•°•°

Derek laid on Isaac’s bed, tapping at his phone in an attempt to ease his nerves. He’d been twitchy since Stiles left with Castiel for Peter, and it wasn’t made any better by Scott’s complaints to Isaac about Dean. Derek wanted to be home, where he could just wrap his mate up and never let him go. 

If anyone in the pack knew he was such a sap, they’d never stop giving him shit. God, it was horrible to feel emotions again. This is why he gave them up after the fire. You let your wolf go a little bit and suddenly you’ve got betas whining at you to cheer up so it’ll smell better. 

**Stiles:** hey alpha, can you meet us at the nematon? dean says it could be important so i want you to be there :*

Derek’s heart thudded its way into his stomach. Important never meant good when it came to hunters. He didn’t bother responding, and didn’t bother telling the pack where he was heading. He had read receipts on, and the pack was used to him leaving for no apparent reason. 

Derek didn’t bother taking the Camaro either. A run would do him good, and release some of the feral instinct that’s close to overshadowing his sense of logic. Mom would be ashamed.

Half-shifted runs didn’t give Derek the kind of rush that full shifted ones did, but he’d have to settle. He needed to be grounded right now. He would see his mate soon, and he wouldn’t piss off the hunters. It would be okay.

He reached the Nematon before Stiles and the others did, but not by much. He had just sat down on it, just felt the buzz of energy when he heard the rumble of Dean’s (decent at best) car.

“Get up,” Castiel commanded the second he laid eyes on Derek.

Derek stood up, shock preventing him from getting any satisfaction from Dean’s muttered, “manners, Cas.” He stepped away from it as Castiel stepped towards it briskly. Scott and Stiles pulled up as the angel raised his hands over the tree stump and closed his eyes.

The boys exited the car slowly, watching as the Nematon began to glow a reddish orange color through the center. Castiel opened his eyes and they were an inhuman blue, far brighter than Derek’s beta eyes had been.

A tortured scream rose from the Nematon, but the angel didn’t even seem to notice. “Cas, don’t open it,” Dean shouted. That broke his concentration.

The angel seemed to suddenly be pushed back by an invisible force, flying hard into a tree. Derek’s ears picked up a sickening crack of the vessel’s ribs, and even knowing it could heal immediately didn’t stop him from flinching.

The scream stopped, the light stopped. Everything was still for a moment, until Stiles, always Stiles, broke the silence. “What the hell was that?”

Dean looked up from where he was kneeling by Castiel’s tense form. “It’s a gate.”

“To what?” Scott demanded.

Castiel coughed, a sound made harsh by the blood that rose from his throat with it. “Hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had no idea that was where I was going with this until I sudddenly thought, “you know what would be a perfect excuse for Beacon Hills to be like this? A GATE TO HELL.”
> 
> Go big or go home, right? The next chapter should not take this long to be up, mostly because I’m kinda pumped for what I’ve got planned for it. :)


End file.
